Hidden Away
by nayla0301
Summary: Through a lucky accident Harry finds not only a place to hide but also a place to be himself and knowledge needed to regain control over his life.


A/N: This is a new take on my story "Serpentine Friend". Those who read it (it was only two short chapters) will notice that I made some small changes here. However, my concept changed so while the changes here might be minimal they are important.

/praseltongue/

'_thoughts'_

"human speach"

* * *

The damp, depressing atmosphere of the dungeons was a perfect reflection of his own feelings. It was the last night of a school year as a black haired boy was walking through empty corridors of an ancient castle, grieving after the loss of his beloved godfather. They hadn't known each other for a very long time, however he was so starved of human affection and wanted to have a family of his own that the man quickly become like a father he never had. And now he was alone again with no one he could trust and confide in. Yes, he had two best friends, but since they have become a couple they were too busy with each other to even notice him. Not to mention that he wasn't so sure they would be very understanding. Some of his secrets were definitely unusual and controversial. By now he knew his friends well enough to foresee their reaction. Ron would freak out and wouldn't even stop to think and try to understand before ranting about how wrong and abnormal it was. He was sure it would end with some hurtful things being said. And Hermione… well, she would have a lot of questions, trying to know everything but she wouldn't be doing it to understand. She would find everything about it there is in books on psychology and then try her best to convince him that he was sick and needed help, that once he was fine again Harry would agree with her and be grateful for what she did for him. And then, of course, he will finally get together with Ginny.

'_Really, I had had enough of all three of them trying to subtly suggest that Ginny was available and willing. They believe that we were meant to be a couple. After all my father had a thing for red heads so it is so logical that I would be the same.'_ thought Harry sarcastically. _'And this is where they are wrong. Not only am I not interested in red heads. I am not interested in FEMALES.'_

It was all this that caused his midnight strolls. This and the fact that he didn't want to sleep. He was doing everything he could to avoid sleep for as long as he could because every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sirius falling through the Veil and there was no way to use his best method of relaxation. Not when he wanted it to stay secret and it was impossible with the way he was constantly watched. Only here, in the dungeons where there were no paintings, he could relax a bit and hide from the eyes always looking at him. Always spying.

After another hour of aimless walking Harry heard quick steps coming from the corridor in front of him. Not thinking too much about what he was doing he walked into the nearest alcove and pressed his back to the wall with so much force he felt sharp pain between his shoulder blades where a little sharp thorn-like piece of stone plunged in. Suddenly, the wall disappeared and he fell backwards, hitting the floor and stirring clouds of dust. Coughing, he slowly stood up, not noticing that the portal closed after him. Harry cast a general cleaning spell and looked around the strange-looking room he found himself in. The walls were white, but not hospital-white, more like calming-sophisticated-white. There was no windows, which was not surprising as he was in dungeon. In every corner stood black, thick trunk with bulbs sticking out of it in random places. Each bulb of different size but all shining with delicate light. It was the only light source, however combined with the white walls and light wooden floor, which was quite unusual for a dungeon, it was giving an effect of a very bright but not blinding room. In the middle stood big comfortable-looking settee with many cushions in different shades of brown.

And there was nothing else in the room. As much as Harry was amazed by the strangeness of the décor, he decided not to ponder about it and just lie down on that nice couch and relax. He needed to think and here he could be alone and be sure no one will find him. Judging by the amount of dust this room was abandoned for a very long time.

He desperately needed to decide what to do now. Who to trust. Where to go. He certainly wasn't going back to that bastard and his wife, who took great pleasure in humiliating and torturing him, no matter what Dumbledore might say. Harry didn't trust the man any more. So much could have been different if only Headmaster had talked to him and listened when Harry was telling him about the way Dursleys treated him. Instead he was treated like a small child. Not only kept him in the dark but it was also assumed that he was exaggerating about his life with that… family.

And now Sirius was dead! Harry was well aware it was partially his fault, but for the last year he felt like nobody was paying any attention to what he was saying, so the only thing he thought he could do was take matters in his own hands. Now he knew it was a mistake. However, he was also aware that even if he decided to tell someone about his problems he simply didn't know who he could have told. It wasn't like he had any adults in his life that took him seriously and treated him as a mature person to not only hear him out but not dismiss what he says.

He slowly approached the settee, lied down and froze in shock. He was wrong. So very, very wrong. This room was far from being empty. In the ceiling there was a huge hole going several feet up and it was covered in books. Hundreds of books. It was mesmerizing view and Harry couldn't stop gaping. The books were too high for him to see the titles, but he felt the first stirs of curiosity and excitement at the mere thought of exploring this unusual library.

After a few minutes of contemplating where he should start, Harry decided that the best place would be the very couch he's sitting on as it was directly under the library. He started touching every little ornament he could find in hopes of discovering a secret switch, but there was none. Just as he thought that the only option that's left was going to his dorm and bringing back his broom Harry heard something like a very quite hiss. The Gryffindor sat motionlessly for a few moments and then he heard it again.

/What are you doing here, human?/

Harry kept looking for a source of the hissing, he couldn't find any snake, alive or otherwise, but answered anyway.

/I accidentally fell through the wall./

There was a moment of silence and the boy was surprised that the voice didn't seem to be baffled that he knew Parseltongue, which in turn baffled Harry.

/How did you know I could understand you?/

/Because only those with an active Parseltongue gene can enter this room./

Harry tried to localize the snake, however when he stood up and took a step in the direction he thought his new "friend" was, he heard angry:

/Watch it! Do not squash me!/

Raven haired boy looked down and was surprised to see a tiny hatchling. It was just about 7 inches. Colors were also very dull. Light brown on top and beige at the bottom. However, the voice was one of a very mature person, which was a strange combination. Crouching down, Harry said:

/Hello there, little one. What's your name?/

/Isilra. And I may be little, but by no means am I a hatchling and I would appreciate it if you used my name and not those silly pet-names./

Harry could clearly hear the annoyance in his new friend's voice. He suspected that with her size she get mistaken for a baby a lot. He could understand her feelings, being only about 5'5'' and the lowest boy in his year. Adding his quite delicate, for a male, face and his still unchanging voice he was often mistaken for a 13-year-old.

/It's nice to meet you, Isilra. I'm Harry. And I meant no offense…/

Little snake didn't even let him finish.

/What were you looking for? You were behaving as if you lost something./

/I wanted to find a way to get to those books./ said Harry pointing to the ceiling.

Isilra looked at him surprised.

/You can see them?/

/Yeah… Am I not supposed to?/ he asked after a moment.

At the affirmative nod from Isilra, Harry asked curiously:

/Why not?/

/It's just that not every snake-speaker is from Salazar Slytherin's bloodline and only those can see his Private Library./ said calmly Isilra.

/So… You are saying that every snake-speaker can enter here, but only Salazar Slytherin's heirs can access the library? I thought that this gift was unique for Slytherin bloodline./

/No. In Salazar's times it was much more popular. Actually, there are a lot of people who carry the gene without knowing about it but for some reason it's not active. This room was built by Salazar for Speakers living in the castle. Not everyone wanted others to know about them having this gift. You can say that it was a Headquarter for a very exclusive club. This room even has a secrecy spell. Once you leave you won't be able to tell anyone about what or who you saw here and where HERE was. However Salazar didn't want to share his knowledge as knowledge is power. So, he put up wards around his treasures./

Little snake waited patiently for the young human to think through what he just heard. Harry tried to figure out, how was it possible that he had Slytherin's blood in his veins. His father was the most gryffindorish Gryffindor, from what he heard, and his mother was a Muggleborn. There was no way in hell that he got this… inheritance… from his parents. Voldemort was out too. When he first tried to kill Harry all those years ago, he transferred some of his powers to the boy, among which was Parseltongue, or so Dumbledore had told him. Not that he was sure he believed anything the old man told him. At least, not any more. There was also that night on the graveyard, but then it was Dark Lord who took Harry's blood not the other way around. Still confused, young Gryffindor asked pointing up:

/How can I get there?/

/It's very easy. You see those bulbs? Lay your hand on one of them and say 'Open'./

Harry hesitantly touched the light as if he was afraid it will burn him, but surprisingly it was cool.

"Open."

Nothing happened.

/Not in your language, youngling. In mine./ said amused Isilra.

After grinning sheepishly, Harry said again, these time looking directly at the snake as it make speaking Parseltongue easier:

/Open./

The moment the word left his lips, he felt hard pinch and quickly took his hand back looking suspiciously at the bulb that was now bright red. Isilra chuckled.

/It just a little blood test. Nothing to worry about./

/You could have warned me./ scowled Harry.

/I could, but it wouldn't be so funny. After being alone for such a long time I think I deserve some entertainment./

Suddenly there was a loud creak and circular stairs appeared, descending down from the Library. They were made of some kind of black metal. When they were about to touch the couch it disappeared.

/Is my hand going to be stabbed every time I want to get a book?/ asked annoyed Harry.

/Of course not./ huffed Isilra and after a pause added /Only when you would like to get to the library./

/Gee… That's a relief./

/There is no need to be sarcastic. I merely answered your question. Besides, it only takes a drop of blood and the skin heals instantly. So stop whining./

At that stoic statement Harry glared at his companion but refrained from making any comments. After all, there's no need to make an enemy. Isilra could be very small, but the boy had a feeling she was quite knowledgeable and that could come in handy. Especially when he planned on taking back at least some control over his life.


End file.
